


A Plot for Polyjuice

by Kinda_Kozy



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Chess, Chess Metaphors, F/M, Firewhiskey (Harry Potter), Gen, Mad-Eye Moody - Freeform, Missing Scene, Ron Weasley is a Good Friend, Wizard's Chess (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-21 18:48:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30026262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kinda_Kozy/pseuds/Kinda_Kozy
Summary: The lengths Ron and Hermione go to preparing for their Horcrux hunt with Harry. Avoiding Mrs Weasley to plan is hard enough, but what about getting something past Mad-Eye Moody?
Relationships: Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody & Molly Weasley, Hermione Granger & Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 9
Kudos: 19





	A Plot for Polyjuice

**Author's Note:**

> Originally Posted for the House Competition on FFN
> 
> Round 3 It's all Fun and Games

“Hermione. No. Absolutely not!” Ron hissed, worried that the silencing charms on the garden shed wouldn’t hold against the urgency of his voice. 

“Please, Ron. It will be so good for us!”

“Hermione. I’ll do anything – anything – else. This is too much!”

“Ron, think about it. This is our only chance.”

“I understand, Hermione,” Ron grumbled through gritted teeth. “But you’re asking me to steal from an Auror!” Ron snapped. “And not just ANY Auror! Noooooo.” He frantically paced the tiny shed, “You want me to steal from ALASTOR-bleeding-MAD-EYE MOODY.”

“Please, Ron, you heard him.” Hermione placed a hand on his shoulder to stop his pacing. “He has more than enough for tomorrow’s plan. You know we will definitely be needing it,” she reasoned.

“Then why not just ask him, huh?” Ron prompted, still manic.

“We can’t risk him discussing it with the rest of the Order,” Hermione said sharply. “Your mum was already livid when I let it slip that I haven’t got plans to return to school. If she finds out I’m asking for a loan of Polyjuice from Mad-Eye, what is she going to think?”

“Mad-Eye’s got a mind for discretion…” said Ron quietly, though Hermione and the bruise still smarting on the back of his head from his mother’s wooden spoon were not convinced.

“Yes, but it’s easier to apologize than ask for permission.”

“Hmm.” Ron wrinkled his nose. “You’ve been spending too much time with the twins.” 

Hermione looked away and huffed,“I know.” 

“Yeah, well why don’t you go ask them to be your partners in crime?” Ron groused.

“Because this is for our mission,” Hermione pressed. Ron regarded her with narrow eyes and she folded. “Also, they’d just want a cut of the potion...but you know I’m right!” she persisted. “And this is the last night we can do this. Once Harry is brought here, Mad-Eye’s leaving on a top secret mission of his own.” 

As he considered her words, Ron made the fatal mistake of looking her directly in the eye. Once she had his gaze there was no escaping the deep brown depths of her conviction. 

“Fine!” Ron blurted out before he could look away.

“Oh! Thank you, thank you, thank you, Ron!” Hermione cheered, “I couldn’t do this without you!” And she pounced on him for a grateful hug. He greedily returned the embrace putting aside his reluctance towards the mission he’d just signed on for.

“Yeah, yeah,” he gave a grim sigh. “Save it for after we pull this off.”

“I’ve got it all planned out,” Hermione said brightly, pulling away from his chest,“You barely have to do anything. I’ll be moving the potion, you just have to keep him distract-”

“You want me to DISTRACT a man whose life mantra is ‘constant vigilance’!?” Ron broke out of the claustrophobic bounds of her hug.

“I’ve got a plan!” Hermione insisted. “Besides, technically he never said that. It was Barty Crouch Jr. pretending to be Moody,” she added quietly. Ron’s head spun, realizing he was going to have to keep a better track of what he knew about the real Mad-Eye. Hermione continued, “You’re going to distract him while his eye is out.” 

“Oh, fantastic!” Ron spat sarcasm. “Take away the gadget that leaves a giant crater on his face. Make him even more intimidating, why don’t you!”

“Yes, Ronald,” Hermione said impatiently, “That _gadget_ also allows him to survey his surroundings. Without it, I have the chance to get something past him!”

Ron blinked in recognition, as the strategy fell into place. He tested her with sober focus, “How do you know he’ll take it out at all?”

“He takes it out after every stint guarding the Burrow’s perimeter.” Hermione smiled, mischievously. She knew she had him now, for sure.

“So, I just need to keep the other eye focused on me?”

“Yes, exactly, you don’t even have to touch the potion. You just have to have a conversation with him.” Hermione’s smile eased his worries slightly, but Ron only replied with a queasy grunt. “You still want to be an Auror, don’t you? Why not have a chat with him about that?”

“You think?” It had been so long since he had thought seriously about his post-graduation plans. Picking a career now felt like such a distant and trivial thing, during a time of war. All the same, the respect and responsibility of the profession had always called to him; not that he knew if he’d be any good at it…

“Why not?” Hermione shrugged, still focused on her plot for Polyjuice, “He seems to enjoy being a mentor to Tonks, so maybe you can get him to open up.”

“Alright…I guess it’s worth a shot.”

“Good, We ought to get back to weeding the garden before your mum comes round looking for us.”

“Right,” Ron agreed, his bruise aching as a reminder of what would happen if his mother found them conspiring together. They left the shed to continue their chores. Ron would spend the rest of the day quietly contemplating his first mission. 

~~~

It was after dinner when Hermione pulled Ron into the bathroom for a final pep talk.

“You ready?” she asked.

“No,” Ron answered. “Isn’t there a chance you could brew some Felix Felicis real quick?”

“You’ll be fine,” Hermione said with a shaky smile herself. “Just keep him talking.”

“Right.” Ron swallowed the lump in his throat and gripped the wooden box he held with white knuckles.

“Your chess set?” Hermione inquired, eyeing the familiar worn box.

“Yeah,” Ron mumbled, preemptively defensive. “...When it’s your turn to distract the most successful Auror of the century, I’d like to see what you come up with.”

“Ron, it’s a fine idea,” She said to appease his doubt. “Some of your best moments have been with a chessboard,” She added in earnest.

Ron exhaled the breath he didn’t realize he was holding. Hermione checked her wristwatch. 

“Ok,” she whispered. “His shift is over. He should be settling down in the sitting room…” She let the watch tick a couple more seconds, “Now.”

“Here goes everything.” Ron raised his chess set in a half hearted toast.

Hermione took him by the arm and opened the bathroom door. After checking that the coast was clear, they walked down the Burrow’s winding staircase together. They arrived at the ground floor landing in time to see Mad-Eye lumbering his stiff body into a chair near the fireplace. 

He had already removed his cloak, Hermione knew it contained the Polyjuice Potion that she was after. It was draped across the back of his chair. As if cueing for Ron to approach, Mad-Eye massaged his temple until his gigantic roving prosthetic eye popped from its socket.

“Er, Professor Moody?” Ron greeted him. 

“I’ve told you before, I was never your professor,” Mad-Eye gruffly barked back. 

“I know,” Ron stuttered, momentarily unsettled by the black vortex that was the man’s empty eye socket. But he gulped down his discomfort and continued. “I just don’t really know what else to call you.”

“ _Sir_ is fine.” The older wizard muttered. He sat with his back to Hermione as she crouched behind an end table near the sofa. Hermione nodded Ron on silently, her wand poised in her hand.

“Chess!” Ron proclaimed as he shoved the box to the older man. From the corner of his eye, he could tell Hermione was inwardly groaning.

“What?” Moody frowned.

“D-do you play chess..Sir?” Ron was able to communicate his thoughts better on the second go. 

“As a matter of fact...” Usually a hard stern line, Mad-Eye’s mouth curled up, and he bared his teeth. Ron realized this was his version of a smile. Hermione would have begun summoning the potions over but Mad-eye shifted in his seat to reach into his cloak. Hermione ducked behind the sofa again. 

“I do,” said Moody, with a content sigh as he found what he was looking for. It was a worn, enamel box about the same size as the one Ron held. Ron peered closer, admiring the craftsmanship. 

“You just carry your chess set around with you?” Ron asked, as Mad-Eye tenderly dusted off the box.

“A wizard’s chess set is not to be trifled with,” Mad-Eye scolded. 

“‘Spose not,” Ron mumbled, holding his own careworn set to his chest. Mad-Eye regarded him closely.

“I don’t have many belongings,” Moody’s frown creased the wrinkles and scars layering his face. “And frankly I don’t much trust my own residence since the Crouch Jr. incident.” He grumbled, rage and remorse coloring his tone. “I carry almost everything worth keeping close to me.”

“D-do you fancy a game?” he said, his voice cracking at the word _‘game’_. Moody blinked impassively in response. Or did that count as a wink. Can one wink impassively? Ron shook his head to clear it and spoke again. 

“Usually, I play with Bill or my dad, but they haven’t been home most nights, and Hermione is...” He glanced up to Hermione, who was summoning a floating bottle towards her. “I don’t know where Hermione is,” Ron abruptly emphasized. He turned his focus back on Mad-Eye. “She refuses to play against me, anyways,” he leaned in to gossip. “Sore loser, that one.”

Mad-Eye’s gnarled face regarded Ron another paralyzing moment, then he smirked and gestured for Ron to sit opposite him. Feeling triumphant, Ron summoned the coffee table between them. He also brought over an ottoman to sit on.

Moody tapped his enamel chess set with his wand. The inlay twisted and the smooth lid, once intact as a solid block, split and opened to reveal the satin cushioned interior. The pieces inside, made of polished pewter, glinted with antique charm. They filed out of their case dutifully. 

Ron studied the unique characters he would be battling. He had been playing wizards’ chess for as long as he could remember, but this was the first time Ron had ever seen a set of actual wizard chess men. They all had wands and wore robes in styles he had only seen in storybooks from his childhood. 

Bashfully, Ron let his own pieces clamber out of their box. The chipped marble hand-me-downs had a lot of unpleasant learned behaviors; they acted without much dignity, unlike their opponents. Usually, they were a source of entertainment for Ron and his brothers, but now it only made Ron cringe. The pawns argued over which space to stand in; the knights were pompously jousting each other. Only the queen was on task, as she bullied the others into place.

“They’re not yours. Originally, I mean?” Mad-Eye grunted a chuckle watching the pieces squabble amongst themselves. He squinted his only eye to watch closer. Amusement softened his features, even the soulless void of his eye socket wasn’t quite as scary as before.

“They were Bill’s,” Ron admitted. “Before that, they were Dad’s.” He prodded the last of his pieces into place for the game to start. His bishop blew a raspberry at him. “Fred taught them that one,” Ron apologized. 

“They're like wands, you know,” Mad-Eye remarked. “A wizard needs pieces of his own. Pieces that he can trust to adapt to his style.” He briskly ordered his pawn to move forward. The demure figure took two strides and resumed her eager dueling stance. “Too many voices in their heads makes them unreliable.”

“You’ve had yours for some time, then?” Ron asked as he considered his first move.

“It’s a fantastic tool, chess,” Moody nodded. “Even the most powerful Aurors don’t get very far if they don’t learn how to see the bigger picture... Make sacrifices.”

Ron was reminded of the last truly stressful game of chess he’d played and the sacrifices he made to help Harry and Hermione make it to the next room. His eyes flicked up to Hermione, knowing all these years later he was still willing to take any hit for her and Harry.

Ron called his first move.

A marble pawn waddled out and Ron could have sworn it was mocking the opponent’s stance. 

“Bloody hell, mate,” he muttered to his pawn. Mad-Eye only chuckled hoarsely.

“You play just like Albus.” He observed Ron’s move with a smirk.

“Dumbledore? Really?” Ron blushed at the comparison. He suddenly worried that Dumbledore had been an absolute disaster when it came to chess. Ron tried to remember what his late Headmaster’s chocolate frog card said about his skills while Moody took his turn. Another pawn stepped up to flank its cohort.

“You’re playing the long game,” Moody said perceptively. His suspicions were dead on; Ron could have challenged Moody’s position with a more direct move. However, across the room, Hermione was making slow progress summoning glassware, silently. Ron wanted to buy her time. He had only made one move, how could Mad-Eye see his strategy so plainly? “He used to do that all the time. ‘Just dawdle his pieces about the board, then suddenly you were down two knights and your queen!”

Ron laughed nervously. “I play with Harry at school,” He offered as explanation, “and he’s barely got any patience to plan his moves. Maybe I’m used to stretching my moves to give him a fighting chance.” 

Thinking quick, Ron instructed his knight in a more aggressive strategy. The little marble warrior hobbled into place, shoving the pawns of his own team out of his way.

Mad-Eye gave a satisfied grunt as he considered his next move. Hermione concentrated on levitating flask after flask out of the cloak.

Six moves later, the first casualty of Ron’s set was his bishop; Moody’s ornate knight had leapt from the back line and threw a curse at his victim. The bishop crumbled.

“ _What the bloody hell was that!?_ ” Ron gaped at the board. Mad-Eye snickered as if he had been expecting that reaction.

“He’ll get sorted out,” he promised, nodding to the pile of pebbles that used to be Ron’s battered bishop.

“Ron?” Mrs Weasley called from the kitchen. “Ron, is everything alright?” She leaned around the doorway. Hermione ducked back behind the sofa as Ron’s mother made her way into the room. She walked up to the game and stood behind Moody’s chair to look at her son. 

“Ah! Mum...” Ron said, blinking rapidly. They hadn’t had a contingency for her unexpected arrival in their plan. He peered behind his mother, but Hermione just shrugged and silently pleaded for him to stay focused.

“The game startled the boy,” Mad-Eye answered for Ron.

“Oh, are you teaching him something new?” Mrs Weasley raised an eyebrow. “I thought Ron knew everything there was to know about the game.” She gave Ron a proud, if not patronizing, smile. “He certainly prefers studying the chessboard to any school book.” Suddenly the bruise on the back of Ron’s head hurt again.

“He is a fine player,” Moody agreed, crossing his arms and leaning into his chair. “Reading too many textbooks isn’t always learning, in my opinion.” he said, winking at Ron – at least, it would have been wink if he had his second eye in. Mrs Weasley glared. “But, erm… There’s no substitute to a good education,” Mad-Eye grumbled to placate her.

She transitioned from shrewd hostility to gracious hospitality. “Can I get you anything, Alastor?” 

“You know, Molly, I’d love a dram of whisky,” Mad-Eye replied, thoughtfully. “I brought my good bottle of _Usquebaugh_ with me.” Ron’s mum momentarily looked intrigued, but catching his eye she reverted back to her motherly reprove. “But Arthur suggested I not carry something like that around in my cloak. He said it might go missing with all his sons rummaging about. He took it for safekeeping.”

“I have an idea of where he put it.” She smiled knowingly. She turned to go back the way she came. Ron almost fainted as he held his breath, waiting for her to leave the room.

“Ronnie.” She turned back to him. Ron was too nervous to scowl at the nickname. “Not too late, alright dear?”

“Sure, Mum.” Ron nodded, watching her leave the room for good. Hermione resumed her work. Ron took his turn. He avenged his fallen bishop with a pawn. The pawn gave an unimpressive conk to the knight’s head and it peacefully walked off the board! The pawn’s sword had a chip where it made contact with the metal man.

The game play continued in this fashion for several of their moves. Each player ruthlessly knocking out their opponents only to be felled by the next turn. 

Mad-Eye’s bishop charged across the board through the space left by the defeated pieces.

“Check,” He announced, curtly. Ron searched the board for the proper retaliation. The obvious thing to do would be to send his Queen’s side castle into the line of fire, but he was reluctant to dispose of that piece. Instead he sent his knight out to challenge Moody’s Bishop. 

Mad-eye sent Ron a brief puzzled look before immediately retreating his bishop to the edge of the board. Ron’s knight chased after to keep it occupied. Both realized he was one move away from a check.

Mad-Eye took defensive measures. His rook switched places with his king; the small fortress slid as a bronze occupant peeked out to confirm his superior’s safety before hunkering back into his shelter.

Ron continued to face the board, but squinted through his eyelashes to see Hermione tiptoeing towards the stairs, testing each step for creaking floorboards. 

Hermione was up the stairs and out of sight, and finally Ron felt himself genuinely smile. He called his queen out to play, she puttered over with violent glee to topple a pewter pawn. She goaded Mad-Eye’s king into- 

“Checkmate,” Ron called. The stoic figure respectfully tossed aside his wand. Ron’s king mooned the losers. 

“Well, well well.” Mad-Eye examined the final state of the board. Satisfied with his defeat, he offered Ron a leathery handshake. “Mission accomplished, then?” Moody teased with a glint in his eye.

“Good ga – wait – what?” Ron stuttered as his heart leapt into his throat.

“Next time you need something from me, you can tell your girlfriend to just ask.” Moody muttered matter-of-factly.

“I-I –you – we…” Ron sputtered. “She’s not my girlfriend.” He said abruptly, thinking it best to start with something that Ron knew for a fact.

Moody cocked his brow at him, “Could’ve fooled me.” 

“Apparently not!” Ron mumbled, sinking his face into his hands.

“Don’t be so down, boy. I practically begged you to take it off me. I expected one of you to approach me sooner rather than later. But this was….interesting. To tell you the truth, I’m grateful.”

“ _Grateful_?” Ron parroted.

“Well, when Molly Weasley gets wind of her son running about Polyjuiced as Severus Snape to get into Gringotts, I have complete plausible deniability over how you got the stuff,” he reasoned with a hearty croaking laugh. 

“But you knew the whole time?”

“What if I told you the firewhisky your mother is looking for has been in my cloak the whole time?”

Of course, he’d said from the beginning anything worth having was worth keeping close!

“That I’m an idiot for thinking I could do this in the first place,” Ron brooded.

“Nonsense,” Moody said with brusk sympathy. He pulled his cloak into his lap to search the pockets. “A bit foolhardy, yes, but that was always going to be a given.”

“Did you let me win?” Ron asked with shrewd humiliation.

“If I let you win, I wouldn’t demand a rematch, would I?” Mad-Eye quipped. 

The board reset at his words. Ron blushed and let himself smile, despite his initial disappointment. 

“Huh,” Moody frowned, still pawing through the cloak. ”I can’t find my Usquebaugh, but it looks like I still have one extra flask of Polyjuice…” He muttered numbers, recounting the flasks sitting inside his cloak. 

Slowly, he looked up from the box, he and Ron shared a look and they both turned their attention to the stairs.

“Let me go see if Hermione would like to play a game of chess.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope everyone enjoyed this little tribute to Ron and his chess skills. 
> 
> This is a Plot bun that has been nesting in head for a long time. I am glad I got to explore it for the competition but I think the word limit was a big challenge. I'm stoked I got to revisit it and add some more little tid bits and easter eggs.


End file.
